Self Harm, My Inner thighs & Other Bad Ideas.

I was just watching a documentary about a ladies prison and it got me thinking. You know how women say that their periods cycles “sync” up with their friends or women they live with or whatever, then does that mean that all the gals in a womans jail “cleanse the damned” at the same time? Imagine that. Imagine the drains! I bet there’s a plumber somewhere showering naked, crying, with a pair of scissors in his hand with a screaming, terrified wife banging at the locked bathroom door, begging him “not to do anything stupid” and to “please come out” but he’s seen to much. He has seen far, far too much. More than any man need see. Some would argue what he’s doing is for the best. Plus, he was thinking of killing himself anyway because he was having a pretty bad time mentally. He’s being blackmailed by some dude who has photos of him sucking of some guys at a festival in Kent. The drains at that prison were just the icing on the cake, really. It’s actually pretty sad when you think about it.

This is just one of many reasons I believed lady-jails need to be banned. You can find more from my new book Why Putting Women In Jail Is A Stupid Thing To Do and Other Hits. I’ve not written much yet. It’s actually mostly that first paragraph up there and a title. Truth-be-told, it’s probably not going to get any further than its current stage. It’s not my fault. It’s just a bad idea for a book. A bad idea I had. I suppose it is my fault, then.

It’s usually my fault though. Maybe I shouldn’t forgive myself this time. I have been going to easy on me recently. Perhaps a bit of tough-love is in order. I’ll put fags out on my arm or something. Maybe not my arms. That might look like a cry for help. My thighs? My inner thighs? Or maybe the soles of my feet. It’s quite tough skin there too, so it probably wont hurt so much and I can, once again, not learn my lesson.